Filing Mishaps and Other Adventures
by MaybeItsJustMyType
Summary: Sherlockian 87 prompted: I shall forever be in love with the prompt that Sherlock thinks he and Molly are in a relationship and she hasn't a clue. Hehehe! Make it as long as you want and feel free to make it smutty if you so desire… heh …


**Sherlockian_87 prompted: I shall forever be in love with the prompt that Sherlock thinks he and Molly are in a relationship and she hasn't a clue. Hehehe! Make it as long as you want and feel free to make it smutty if you so desire… heh …**

* * *

"Moooolllllyyyy," Sherlock cocked his finger at Molly and winked, though he rather lacked his usual panache.

Molly sighed, "Sherlock, you're drunk, hush, the taxi driver will ask us to leave if you're not careful."

Sherlock leaned towards her squinting, then patted his knee invitingly, "Come and sit, here," he flopped his arms out haphazardly and waited happily.

"Sherlock, stop being silly," she hissed, "I told you, the cab driver nearly didn't take us, It was only your cab - black magic, voodoo - thing that got us in at all."

Sherlock frowned, he looked like a child who had been denied a treat, _unfairly_ denied, "Why won't you have sex with me? Am I not pretty enough? No, wait…handsome, you used to like me," he leaned in swaying slightly, his voice pitched low.

"Why won't I have sex with you? Sherlock, I can't talk to you when you're drunk," she turned to him and raised an eyebrow, "Why are you drunk anyway? And why couldn't John just take you home?"

"Why would _John_ take me home?" Sherlock's nose crinkled, "Actually, John asked me why _you_ had to take me home," he sighed looking put upon, "Sometimes it's hard not to get frustrated when you're all so.." he closed his eyes as if in thought.

After he'd remained silent for a beat too long, Molly asked,"So, what?" Looking over at him she realised he'd gone to sleep, _Good, at least I don't have to listen to drunk nonsense for a while, he's lucky I don't believe in taking advantage.. Git._

"Slow! And stop avoiding the question, Moolllyy, why..won't…you….have….sex with me?" He all but stamped his foot as he glared at her waiting for the answer.

Molly sighed again, this was going to be a long night, "Sherlock, don't tempt me, It's been a long time and if you keep throwing yourself at me I might just take you up on it. Also, you didn't answer me, why are you drunk?"

"I waannt you to take advantage of me Moollly."

"Sherlock, why are you avoiding the question?"

"I had a case, I had to blend in. NOW, WHY WON'T YOU SLEEP WITH ME."

The cab driver called back angrily, "Oy! Pipe down, or yer out, unnerstood?"

"Yes, yes, sorry! He'll be good."

" _I won't be_ ," he informed her in a sing-song voice, "I'm _not_ going to be good until, you. sit. here." Each word he punctuated with a slap to his thighs.

Molly weighed her options silently, get kicked out of the cab and what? Carry him? Or sit on his lap and hope he forgets about it when he's sober or at the very least, remembers why she had. Resigned, she slid over and perched on his lap, hoping like hell the cabbie wouldn't notice.

Sherlock's smile was unparalleled by any she had ever seen him wear before, he coiled his arms around her waist and yanked her down to lean on his shoulder, sighing in satisfaction.

"This is nice, you should sit on my knee all the time, why haven't you ever sat on my knee before? John's girlfriend's never seemed to tire of it," he grumbled pointedly.

Molly jolted up, lips parted, before she could so much as get the first disbelieving syllable of girlfriend, past her lips the cabbie interrupted.

"Ride's over love birds! Pay up and enjoy your night! Well, if your fella there is up for it, not lookin' good sweetheart." His laughter streaming out, as he motored away looking for his next fare.

Sherlock grabbed her when they got to the door, spun her around and slammed her against it, he leaned in slowly looking at her intently, whispering, "This time I'm not going to kiss your cheek."

Molly swallowed and stared at him wide eyed, she knew she needed to stop this but couldn't work out how.. _Ooh! A deal! Like in the cab, I'll make him a deal, one kiss and we go inside._

"Sherlock?" She lowered her voice and looked at him through her eyelashes, hoping to keep him sweet, lest he go off on a tangent about ash or something as equally irrelevant. "One kiss and we go inside, deal?"

Sherlock pouted, "One kiss? One kiss is all I get? You're not a very affectionate girlfriend Molly, especially considering," he pitched his voice higher, " _We're having quite a lot of sex_."

Molly wanted to argue, but she knew they'd be there all night, so she tugged him down by his coat lapels and kissed him.

Sherlock hummed and grabbed her around her waist, deepening the kiss immediately, Molly moaned, giving as good as she got, lost in the moment, when she finally remembered herself and gently disengaged, to pull away, they both were wrecked.

"It's nice kissing _you_ , Molly," Sherlock said in a low voice, sending electricity thrumming down Molly's spine.

Molly took a few deep breaths refusing to look into his eyes, though he was barely an inch away from her face, "Ah, hmm, the k-keys Sherlock, we need th-the keys to get in.

Sherlock leaned against her so his body was flush with hers, he cocked his head and whispered in her ear, "What will I get if I give you the keys, Molly?"

Molly closed her eyes and tried not to sway, his breath on her ear, his voice and his own pleasure insistently making it self known against her belly were all making it very hard to keep her head, but she must, whatever game he was currently playing, he wouldn't thank her for encouraging it when he woke, sober the next morning.

Molly reached into his Belstaff pocket to grab the keys, Sherlock's hand followed hers into her pocket and tutted at her. "Uh, uh, uh, Molly, what. do. I. get?"

Molly panicked, her eyes flew up to meet his, "Wh-what do you want?"

Sherlock used the hand not clamped over hers within his pocket to tug her blouse up and rub his thumb over her smooth skin, Molly gasped, so he kissed her. To his delight when he pulled back to look at her her eyes were dark, and she was flushed and her breathing ragged.

Sensing weakness he pushed his advantage, " _You,_ to sleep with me tonight."

Molly's eyes widened, "Sherlock, you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying. I'm not going to sleep with you." _Much as I might want to. How stupid am I? He's throwing himself at me and I'm going to say no?_ The cold voice of reason – her own internal Sherlock butted in with, – _You will resist him because a stone cold sober Sherlock waking up naked next to you will not thank you, in fact, you'll be lucky if he ever talks to you again._

Sherlock watched her, warring internally, she clearly wanted to, he knew she'd capitulate if he took sex out of the equation, he didn't understand why, but she seemed determined not to have sex with him. This way he'd be able to corner her in the morning and force her to tell him why.

"Just _sleep_ Molly, we'll discuss the rest when we wake up, although I really don't understand why my girlfriend won't sleep with me," he looked so adorably confused that Molly felt her strength wavering.

Sucking in a breath she brought herself back under control, "Okay Sherlock, you win, I'll sleep next to you, _with_ clothes on."

Sherlock released Molly's hand so she could grasp the keys, but he didn't move away, in fact he walked his hand under Molly's shirt until he reached her breast, then cupping it and squeezing it, he leaned into Molly again. Molly cried out when his lips met hers, his lips were every bit as gorgeous as they looked, soft, pillowy, and smooth. _God, if he kisses like this drunk what would it feel like sober?_

Molly was completely carried away for a moment, she'd wanted to kiss him for so long and he was such a lovely kisser, cutting remarks obviously worked wonders for keeping your tongue limber. Molly's arms slid around his neck, lost in the kiss.

Sherlock growled, rhythmically bucking against her as he pinched and pulled her nipple through the thin cotton of her bra, the whole world had telescoped down to the connection of Sherlock Holmes, and Molly Hooper, it was heaven and all she'd ever wanted, she was moaning and writhing with him and it was sheer _bliss_ until a sudden click and they were doused in light.

They both pulled back looking wild eyed, "Hudders," Sherlock nodded sagely.

Molly cursed, "Sherlock, she probably thinks that we're passersby trying to have sex against her door!"

Sherlock brightened, "So we _are_ going to have sex? Oh," he closed his eyes and let his head roll back, "That's a relief because I was beginning to think.." He trailed off when he realised that Molly had the door open and was explaining to Mrs Hudson that they had been the culprits making the noise.

Mrs. Hudson was confused, "Really dear? Well its just, well.. it sounded like a couple was out there, erm, well you know what I mean." In such a way that suggested that Sherlock wouldn't. Molly nodded, heat blazing in her face, refusing eye contact.

He stood watching them, his head ping ponging between the two woman, then his mouth fell open, he'd figured it out, _Even drunk theres no curbing my powers of deduction_ , he assured himself smugly. Sherlock narrowed his eyes, he pointed a finger at Molly, "You're ashamed of me!"

His pride at having cracked the case could not completely conceal his hurt, he'd never thought Molly would think of him as a freak. He knew she'd out grown that hero worship crush that she'd once had, and he also knew that familiarity breeds contempt, but he never thought there would come a day when Molly Hooper would place herself above him in such a cruel manner.

Mrs. Hudson and Molly stood looking at him with expressions of utter disbelief, Mrs. Hudson was the first to recover, "Well, clearly you two need to talk, so I'll just head off to bed." She walked away muttering about "…herbal soothers and do try to keep the noise down."

Molly stood, hands on hips, regarding Sherlock like a body ready for a post mortem, "What exactly has gotten into you tonight, Sherlock Holmes? You've called _me_ to pick you up when John was more than happy to see you home, you're extorting kisses from me with the given reason being I'm not being a good girlfriend if I don't, which would be absolutely bloody fine if was _actually_ your girlfriend!"

Sherlock stood with his mouth open, brow furrowed, one might even say teary, "Did we break up?"

Molly threw up hands and looked around as though expecting a camera crew to pop up any moment, "Am I occupying an alternate universe?" her arms dropped and with them her shoulders, sighing in irritation she continued, "Let's just go upstairs, okay?" She looked at Sherlock and seeing his sadness softened and held out her hand smiling, no harm in humouring him while he was drunk.

Almost immediately she regretted that decision, the man was an octopus, rather than taking her hand as offered, he used her hand as leverage to spin her around, pinning her against the wall.

"Molly, I am serious, why won't you sleep with me? Have I done something wrong?"

Molly's mouth was dry, when he pushed a thigh between her legs she thought she'd pass out, her voice was croaky when she answered, barely above a whisper, "Sherlock, please, I don't understand what's going on."

Sherlock trailed kisses down her neck, his voice deep and dark, "Do you _want_ to sleep with me Molly?"

Molly whimpered, how the hell was she was supposed to say no to this onslaught? "I-I don't want to do anything you might regret, you've been drinking and.."

"Will you stay? In my bed? With me?" He tilted her chin up and kissed her slowly, thoroughly, to persuade her.

When he broke away it was clear Molly would be doing whatever he asked. Sherlock's lips curled as he took Molly by the hand and led her upstairs.

Once they were inside 221B Sherlock turned and pinned her with his gaze, clearly sobering quickly, "Tonight we sleep, in the morning," he trailed his fingers down the side of her face and down over her collar bone. "Can I _have_ you?"

Molly's eyes blackened, her breathing ragged, she nodded her acquiescence.

Sherlock grinned a shark tooth grin and extended his hand in invitation, "Shall we?" He inclined his head toward the bedroom.

Molly could only manage a mute nod again, it took her a moment to manage to get her legs to follow orders, finally she stumbled after him feeling confused, how had the night gotten so far out of her grasp? In his room she sat on the bed and tried to think back over the last few months as Sherlock hung his Belstaff on the hook behind his door.

While it was true that they had spent an increasing amount of time together, none of it could possibly have been construed as romantic. their time had consisted of experiments, fish and chips, and T.V. marathons, such as Dr Who re-runs from the seventies, no touching, although given that that was the exact thing Sherlock was currently complaining about, that particular argument seemed rather nullified. All thoughts ceased when he took his shirt and trousers off.

Sherlock looked up at her, eyes snagged on him, a blush blooming, adding colour and setting off her eyes, chest heaving, he smirked. Raising an eyebrow he asked her, "Are you planning on sleeping fully clothed, Molly?"

Molly sucked in a breath, she chewed her lip trying to work out how much clothing to take off, when she felt his hands - warm, large, lusted after for years, hands - smoothing circles on her thighs she looked up.

Sherlock was smiling at her disarmingly, "You think I'm drunk and I don't know what I'm doing, I _do_ know what I'm doing, leave your clothes on," he tilted his head and whispered, lips brushing across the outer shell of her ear, "And I'll take them _off_ in the morning."

Molly nodded, rendered momentarily mute, she was beginning to believe him, although she still couldn't work out since when they could have possibly been dating even if only in his mind.

She excused to herself to use the bathroom briefly and Sherlock did the same, when they had both returned she slowly unbuttoned and peeled her blouse off but left her vest underneath, then she paused for a moment before shrugging and slipping her trousers off, the whole scene felt surreal.

Sherlock grinned, he danced over to the bed and hopped in looking disconcertingly like a child on Christmas Eve, he flipped the covers back and patted the space invitingly next to him.

Molly shuffled toward the bed - and him - slowly, she climbed in feeling awkward and out of sorts, she was torn between believing him and the idea that he would wake in the morning and demand to know why she was attempting to force herself herself on him.

Sherlock lay down and looked at her with his adoring puppy eyes, Molly gulped, _If he keeps this up.._

He smiled, he knew he could convince her, easily, but he also knew that her guilt at what she perceived to be taking advantage of him would ruin their first time, "One kiss? One kiss and we can sleep, like the proverbial spoons.."

Molly nodded, fooling herself with the thought that surely a kiss couldn't do too much damage, conveniently forgetting how they'd behaved at the door a scant few minutes ago. Sleeping like spoons, they'd done more times than she could could count, - including while she was engaged. Many, many times she'd gone to bed alone only to waken in the morning with him curved around her, of course he'd never called it spoons before, but thats what it had been, regardless of the title being given or not.

She hopped into the bed and pulled the covers over herself, then she risked a look at him. Sherlock was gazing at her with hooded eyes, just that look alone had her heart pounding frantically, she stared back with wide eyes hoping that he wouldn't push further, she couldn't possibly say no to much more.

Sliding one hand under her vest across her stomach he grasped a handful of skin and squeezed, just a little, Molly gasped, hips bucking up, he used her arousal to initiate a more intense kiss than she'd probably had in mind, his tongue lapping at her lips.

Molly moaned, he felt so good. He smelled wonderful, even drunk, he'd clearly been drinking a prohibitively expensive whisky and neither the smell nor taste was unpleasant, they just seemed essentially Sherlock, expensive and manly.

Sherlock's hand roamed up to Molly's breast, he ran his palms over and around feeling her nipple harden through the thin fabric, Molly's whined and arched her back into his touch, encouraged, he let his hand wander down. Palming her through her already damp pants, he asked her again, "Molly? Do you want to wait until the morning," he kept his hand sliding back and forth firmly.

Molly was panting heavily, trying to hold on to the ability to say no, she knew she must, who knows what she would wake to. Sherlock declaring his love? Or Sherlock confessing he'd been drugged and had no memory, anything was possible with him.

Biting down on her bottom lip hard she managed to gasp out, "The morning, please, Sherlock."

Sherlock whispered, "Your wish is my command." He slid his hand away slowly caressing her thigh achingly slowly as he did so.

They snuggled down under the covers, Sherlock curled his body around her so that every part of them touched, his erection a third party, he didn't push, he wanted Molly to want to be with him, wholly and completely, if he'd thought that feeling him behind her in that state would cause her discomfort he would have slept on the settee.

Sherlock held Molly around her middle, he'd pushed her vest out of the way and was rubbing her bare skin in a way that could only lead to trouble, she stilled herself and tried to control her breathing, buying time.

Molly's plan was to wait until he was asleep and then ease out of his arms and sneak out, she couldn't face the look of horror she knew she'd see on his face in the morning.

Staying awake proved to be a more of a challenge than she could manage, with Sherlock snuggled in behind her, his body warmth soothing and the smell of him comforting and safe, he had always smelled like home to Molly. To make matters worse he was stroking her hair, gently, lovingly. Feeling her eyes slip closed, she jolted, attempting to remain in control, it wouldn't last.

Though Molly remained blissfully unaware, Sherlock was grinning behind her, she was adorably stubborn but he knew what she was planning and there was no way he would be allowing it. Barely ten minutes later Molly was asleep, given that she'd worked the late shift and it was nearly dawn now he knew she wouldn't be up again.

Before he allowed himself to drift off once he got up to retrieve some aspirin and water, between said precautions, his general fitness, and the quality of the Talisker whisky, he would be fighting fit in the morning. He wanted to be in rude good health when they woke to finish what they had started, judging from Molly's reaction to him last night, he would need his energy.

* * *

Molly woke to her name being called softly, opening her eyes she saw Sherlock watching her, his head resting on the palm of his hand, confusion swept in, the light was all wrong, not too mention Toby wasn't pawing at her for his food.

"Sherlock?" Molly's eyes closed against the unaccustomed brightness, willing her brain to kick into gear, she could feel sleep claiming her again, something niggled at her, demanding her attention, _Just ten minutes_ , she promised herself, and drifted away.

Sherlock grinned at her, he ran his hand over her vest, his hand continued down and pushed it's way under to feel her smooth skin.

Molly's eyes snapped open when his hand pushed into her bra and his fingers started rolling her nipple. Memories flooded in, she was certainly awake now. "Sherlock.."

"You said I could have you when we woke up, Molly," he nipped her lower lip playfully and then sucked it into his mouth, enjoying her moan.

Molly wondered if she ought to ask questions, the thought dissolved when she felt Sherlock's hand slip into her pants, "Ha-aah."

Sherlock plunged his tongue into her mouth as he started swirling his fingers over her clit.

Molly responded in kind, her hand made its way into his pants, she found him already hard, wrapping her fingers around his length she stroked him firmly enjoying how thick he was.

"Molly, can I? Please? I've wanted to be inside you for so long," he slipped two fingers inside her and groaned at how good it felt.

Molly scrambled to remove her pants, eyes fixed on him as he pulled his own down, his prick bobbed up and down.

Molly's eyes were wide, she spread her legs wide and looked up at him, eyes dark, too aroused to be shy, "Sherlock, I want you."

Sherlock hissed in a breath, he positioned himself over her and rubbed his cock head over her bud enjoying the shivers it produced. Finally he pushed in, their eyes closed simultaneously, both caught in the pleasure, Sherlock lifted Molly's legs over his shoulders and started to languidly stroke in and out.

"Oh, Sherlock, oh," Molly was already so close, his stomach providing friction exactly where she needed it with each stroke.

Sherlock reached down between them and used his violinist's fingers to sweep her over the edge, his fingers danced and flurried across her pearl as she became ever more vocal, to his immense satisfaction it was similar to playing his Strad, although Molly's music was ever so much sweeter.

Molly was beyond caring who could possibly hear her, or what Sherlock thought about the noise she was making, in the past she had kept herself carefully under control, unwilling to just let go, none of her other lovers had taken her past that point of control, of course it would be Sherlock Holmes that would.

As reality began settle around her again she looked at his face, he looked so proud, and pleased, Molly beamed at him, maybe she'd finally found the man for her, or maybe he'd just _finally_ admitted to being the right man for her.

Sherlock eased her legs down and holding her securely, flipped them over, Molly grinned, "Good choice Mr. Holmes, my turn to make _your_ body sing."

Molly moved his hands, positioning them on her breasts and encouraging him to, knead and tease her nipples into peaks. She used one hand to reach behind her to cup and fondle his balls, causing her back to arch pushing her breasts out pleasingly for him. The other she hand she used to hold onto his hips, she allowed her gaze to travel downwards knowing his would follow.

Sherlock groaned, her position gave him an unobscured view of her pretty pink sex, being violated by his thick cock, when she knew he was utterly transfixed by the sight, she began to move, slowly at first, giving him time to enjoy the visual feast playing out for him.

He could see his shaft disappearing into her, he could feel her breasts under his hands and he could hear her moaning, her hips started rocking faster and faster, his thrusts sped up, matching hers, his hips pumping up and down wildly as he rapidly came undone. "Oh Molly, Molly, this is so, so, ahh, oh god."

Molly leaned forward to capture his lips, sucking his tongue into her mouth, breasts flattening against him, she sunk her hands into his hair and tugged, surrounding him

* * *

completely, his hips jerked and he moaned into her mouth, as his seed spilled inside her.

She kissed him lightly on the cheek and then rested her forehead on his shoulder for a moment while they both caught their breath, they lay panting and entwined, still connected for a few moments until finally Molly rolled off and lay next to him.

"Sherlock? That was beautiful." Molly's body was relaxed and floppy, her head quiet.

"Hmm, yes," Sherlock agreed, he looked peaceful, not a word that would usually be associated with Sherlock Holmes, but appropriate, nonetheless.

They lay in peace together for some time until Molly's thoughts became more insistent, she finally burst out, "Why do you think we're dating? It's not that I don't want… you _know_ how i feel about you, but when? When did we?"

Sherlock looked away, focusing on the wall, he clearly he felt like an idiot, "Ah, I asked you? I told you I was in love with you and I asked you if you would be willing to try a relationship."

"Hmm-mm," Molly nodded along as if in agreement with this as an idea, "So, did you actually ask me? Or did you maybe do a trial run in your mind palace?"

Sherlock couldn't remember a time he had felt more just simply _silly_ , he sighed and closed eyes for a moment before continuing, "I had a case that night, a ten, I had to clear the memories in the cache of my short term room in a hurry so I would have access to it for the case, it occurs me that i may have mis-labelled that particular memory, causing a mis-file."

Molly laughed, ah the absurdity, life was never simple with this man, that was for sure. "So how long? How long have I been an absolutely rubbish girlfriend?"

Sherlock sighed, "Two months," his voice was quiet.

"It took you two months of no physical interactions, not even a kiss? And you needed to be drunk?"

"I worried that you'd say you no longer wanted me," even now he looked like he was bracing himself for the inevitable blow.

Molly looked at him, utterly affronted, and just plain old mind-boggled, "Why ever would you imagine that _I_ would reject _you_?"

"Molly, you and John are aberrations, people meet me and are attracted to my physical appearance, (like you) or they like my deductions, (both of you) but they soon tire of me. My physical characteristics, and my intelligence, they are out weighed by my personality. You've spent a lot of time with me since the whole Fauxriarty scandal, I thought you had finally begun to tire of me but you didn't wish to be cruel so you were just hoping I would just deduce it."

Molly frowned, "If you thought all of that, why did you bother? Why get drunk and confront me?"

"Because I couldn't let you go without trying, you have my heart whether you want it or not, you're it for me, there will never be another, I don't enjoy being physical, I never have, only you." Sherlock ran his hand down over her curves in appreciation, "I have been struggling not to touch you since I came back from the dead, you _haunted_ me when I was away. I dreamed of you night after night, dreamed you were under me, your taste, your skin sliding against mine, the sounds you might make, I would wake up shouting."

Molly's face shivered with happiness, "I love you too, Sherlock, I always have, and I will never stop, no matter what you do, I have loved you for as long as I can remember, it's never going to go away, you're it for me too. I will stay with you, marry you, have your children, _or,_ I will just be your friend, I just want to be near you, I need to be near you."

Sherlock drew a breath and Molly interrupted him, "No Sherlock, you don't have to ask me to marry you right now, one day if you want to, first let's just try to be normal? You could, just for instance," she grinned, "Shag me again, and then, I dunno, maybe give me a drawer? Baby steps."

"Hmm, then we could have breakfast, I know you love to eat. I called your neighbour, Mrs. Morris. Asked her to feed Toby this morning, she laughed at me!" He informed her indignantly, "She asked me if I was the man in the coat, not the goofy one, the other, when I confirmed that I was indeed he, she told me that if I didn't keep you here for at least two nights the next time I came to see you she'd," here he paused for a moment, as if to draw strength for what lay ahead, "Give me a tumble herself," he finished drily.

Molly exploded into snorts of laughter, "Yup, she's been talking about you and what she'd do to you for years, actually she told me you were in love with me but too stupid to say so."

Sherlock sighed, "To be fair, she was right," his tone turned more serious, "I'm sorry, Molly, you deserve better than to be with someone who talks to imaginary people in his mind and then has to get drunk before attempting to seduce you."

"There's a rather large flaw in your logic Sherlock," Molly admonished.

Sherlock frowned, parsing his statement, "No.."

"I cut up bodies for a living, I dated a psychopath, and I couldn't hold an ordinary engagement together, I think I'm in the right place."

Sherlock chuckled, "Well, when you put it like that, the only thing to do is shag you thoroughly and then get you that drawer."

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